


Caught in a Lie

by Aleekae



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: /lap dancer, M/M, Neil is a stripper, Stripper AU, The other foxes will show up i promise!, stripper!neil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:17:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleekae/pseuds/Aleekae
Summary: Neil is a stripper. Nicky is thrilled, Aaron is annoyed, and Andrew has a new Problem.





	1. Chapter 1

“Table for four?” Roland’s voice cut through the loud music with practiced ease, bringing the attention of Andrew and his company to the hostess stand.

Andrew slid him a bored look, courtesy of his unmedicated state. He liked to be off his meds whenever they went out to Eden’s Twilight, but they hadn’t been there for a couple months due to the Foxes’ difficult game schedule. As it was, Andrew hadn’t gone a full night without his medicine in roughly six weeks, and his body was putting up one hell of a fight. “Just put us next to the stage so he can get it out of his system,” he jerked a thumb back to where Nicky stood, nearly bouncing on his heels he was so excited, “and we can get the hell out of here.”

Roland nodded and waved a hand at Kevin, “He’s new, where’d you pick him up?”

Andrew shrugged, “He came for the alcohol.”

Roland winked at Kevin, “And he might stay for the boys.” Kevin looked a little sick at Roland’s suggestion but his excitement returned at the prospect of alcohol. The four of them followed Roland through the crowd, dodging customers and workers as they made their way to the different tables and mini stages. Andrew looked around and gathered his bearings, noting that Roland led them to a slightly secluded table to the side of the stage. He didn’t bother thanking the bartender, but he made a note to leave an extra tip when he got drinks at the bar later.  

“The next performance starts at eleven thirty,” Roland remarked, handing them a few drink menus, which were more for Kevin’s sake than anything. “You guys know how this works, but maybe a refresher? For the new guy of course,” he winked at Kevin again, but was ignored in favor of the shiny new drinks menu, “Lap dance prices are determined by the person giving them. Any misconduct, and you’re out of here. We’ve got a few new workers running around so don’t give them too much grief.”

Nicky instantly perked up, “New blood? You have to send them to our table, Roland. It’s mandatory hazing.” Roland laughed and nodded, giving Nicky his confirmation that he’ll get to “test drive the newbies” before disappearing with their drink order.

Roland returned right as the next performance started. Andrew dove into the drinks with vigor, downing his first whiskey and dividing up the cracker packets amongst his group. Aaron immediately grabbed a handful and disappeared soon afterward. He never did like the gay strip clubs that Andrew and Nicky picked, but Eden’s at least had a dance floor to distract him from the gayness of everything. The fact that they used to work there generally helps his twin’s attitude, as does the cracker dust.  

A couple fresh faces slinked up to their group after the performance on stage began, eager to make a few bucks off of lap dances. Nicky entertained them for a little bit, laughing at their advances and even letting a couple of them sit on his lap. Andrew watched his interactions carefully while he downed a few more drinks. The nausea in his stomach had settled, but he still felt exhausted and on edge. Kevin didn’t seem much different, Andrew noted as he watched the striker down his fifth vodka tonic like his life depended on it. Maybe the distraction of alcohol was the only way he could make it through the day. Andrew mused on the idea as he turned his attention back to Nicky, his cousin now having caught the attention of another worker.

“So what’s your name?” Nicky asked, laying the charm on thick for his newest victim.

The kid (well, Andrew could only assume he was their age since he wasn’t much taller than him and Aaron) smiled shyly, clutching his hands behind his back and batting his eyelashes as he gave a one-syllable answer that Andrew couldn’t quite make out. His features weren’t interesting, brown hair and brown eyes and black clothes blah blah blah. But he wasn’t unattractive by any means. He had a lithe runner’s frame, slightly malnourished but dressed to the nines in tight black clothing. Although he was generally nice to look at, what caught Andrew’s attention were his eyes. They were alert, like he had already calculated every exit in the building and every threat within twenty feet of him. He kept glancing at Nicky and then at the stage, back to Nicky, to the crowd, to Nicky, to Andrew, back to Nicky, and then to Kevin.

He stared at Kevin for an indeterminable amount of time, his body locking up in a recognizable fight-or-flight stance. Andrew watched Kevin’s face for any recognition on his part, but he merely gave the kid a bored once-over and returned to his drinks. Nicky cleared his throat to get the newbie’s attention, and he seemed to relax back into the conversation. His body still held tension, but he wasn’t screaming _threat_ to Andrew anymore. Andrew huffed, he was probably just another Exy fan who recognized the Famous Kevin Day and couldn’t keep it in his pants. Just as predicted, the boy quickly made his excuses to Nicky and all but ran away as soon as was socially acceptable.

Nicky sighed dramatically, “Another beautiful face, another lap dance lost. Hey, maybe he ran away because he has an evil stepmom. Like Cinderella… Neil… Neilerella...” Yeah, Nicky was definitely plastered. Andrew sunk back into his armchair and sipped at his whiskey. So the new kid’s name was Neil.

Kevin laughed and joined in, “Maybe he ran away because of your face.”

“Maybe he ran away because of _your_ face. He seemed to stare at you an awful lot, Kev.” Nicky snickered, “I’d like to stare at his face twenty-four-seven. Those cheekbones though.” Andrew felt inclined to agree, but he merely shook his head and took another sip. He could really go for a cigarette.

“Another half an hour and then we’re leaving.” Andrew said, standing up to slip on his leather jacket, “I’ll be right back.” Nicky pouted at the time restraint, but he dragged Kevin towards the dance floor with the excitement of an eager puppy. Andrew watched them integrate into the mass of writhing bodies, memorizing where they were in the crowd so he could find them right away when he came back.

Roland perked up as he saw Andrew approach the bar, but the small blond merely shook his head and motioned towards the fire exit in the back corner. Tonight wasn’t a Roland Night, and Andrew really just wanted to smoke in peace and then head home where the comfort of a locked door awaited him.

Unfortunately, luck was never on his side.

Andrew opened the back door and braced himself for the chilly night air. He let the heavy door slam behind him, abruptly cutting off the loud noises of the strip club to just a dull thumping of the bass that vibrated everything within hearing distance. What Roland calls the “VIP Smoker’s Lounge” is really just a fire escape, slightly bigger than the standard black metal death trap that usually hangs off of apartment buildings, as the stairs and balcony were meant to hold an entire club’s worth of people.

He dug a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and held his hand up to block the lighter from the wind. He inhaled deeply, savoring the smoke before slowly exhaling the smoke into the night air. A flicker of movement caught his attention, but before he could investigate further a small but firm voice spoke up from the corner of the balcony, “Employees only. Unless the building is on fire.”

Andrew smirked and turned around, leaning his back up against the metal railing. “Now now, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” He teased, studying the huddled figure across from him. It was the new kid, sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and holding a lit cigarette in one hand. He was wearing a ratty gray sweater, littered in stains that could be either paint, ketchup, or blood. The only evidence of his previous outfit was the black choker poking out from underneath his collar and the ripped black skinny jeans that were a little too large for him. Andrew had an inkling that they were borrowed clothes. “How long have you been working here?”

Neil narrowed his eyes and moved the cigarette closer to his face. He didn’t bring it to his lips, but instead breathed in the smoke trailing off the lit end. “Couple weeks.” Quick and to the chase.

“Oh? And when was your first lap dance?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Seems weird for a first timer to just run off like a scared puppy, tail between his legs and all.” Andrew took another drag from his cigarette, “What was it about Kevin that had you so scared?”

Neil’s eyes widened momentarily as a sprinkle of ash fell from his cigarette to his jeans. He brushed it off absentmindedly, and when he returned his attention back to Andrew it was an all-too-innocent expression that graced his face. “Which one was Kevin?”

Andrew’s grin grew, a side effect of the cracker dust and whiskey finally kicking in. His nausea had finally disappeared, but he was starting to feel a completely different weight settle in the pit of his stomach. Neil’s wariness of Kevin wasn’t just a fanboy’s infatuation. “Uh oh, you’ve been caught in a lie. Tell me Neil, does lying get easier the more you do it or harder?”

Neil sprang to his feet, but Andrew was blocking the staircase. His only mode of escape was the door, but he hesitated just long enough for Andrew to step forward, crowding Neil into a corner between the building and the railing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Andrew.” Neil hissed. His hackles were raised, but Andrew could only see a scared little rabbit.

Andrew laughed. It was more of a creepy giggle. He despised it as it cut through his throat and floated through the night air, light and playful as if they were sharing a mutual joke. “Oh, now we’re playing the right game!” Andrew waved his hand in the air and blew a puff of smoke in Neil’s face. He didn’t even blink. “So you pay attention to Exy, big deal. You never answered my question.”

Neil blinked up at him innocently. He flicked his cigarette off the balcony without looking, still burning and barely finished. “You weren’t asking the right question. Kevin is a world renowned Exy star, who wouldn’t get nervous seeing him in a male strip club?”

Andrew hummed, “Nice try, Pinocchio. I know a scared rabbit when I see one.” He backed away from Neil, one step at a time, and took another drag from his cigarette. The kid was just going to keep deflecting his questions unless he tried something different.

The door to the club swung open right then, cutting off any further conversation. Roland stuck his head through, probably looking for his lost little employee. His face lit up when he saw both Andrew and Neil standing there instead, “I see you’ve met Neil, Andrew! Isn’t he cute? Picked him right off the street myself.” He stood in the doorway like a proud mother, holding the door open with the intention of herding them all back inside. Neil went through first, efficiently elbowing Roland as he passed by. Andrew followed suit but kept himself out of Roland’s reach, which was to be expected.

Roland tutted at Neil, but he couldn’t hear any of the conversation due to the loudness of the club. The dull roar he had gotten used to on the fire escape seemed like a distant memory at this point, and Andrew almost missed it. He peered over the crowd and found Kevin, Aaron, and Nicky right where he had left them. He could feel Neil and Roland watching him as he walked away, intent on finding his group and then herding them like drunk sheep to their house for the night. He would deal with The Problem (as Andrew had so eloquently dubbed Neil) later, when his insides weren’t in turmoil and he didn’t have three drunkards on his hands.

The ride home was quiet, save for Nicky’s opinionated comments on the performance and Kevin’s frequent bitching about not getting enough to drink. He parked the car and fulfilled his role as shepherd efficiently, shoving them up the stairs and fighting off Nicky’s attempt at “cousin-ly affection” every step of the way.

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief as the lock to his bedroom door clicked into place. He didn’t bother setting an alarm on his phone, confident that a nightmare or two would wake him up well before the time he needed to be awake in the morning. The sheets welcomed him as one of their own, and as he backed up against the bedroom wall and curled into them with every intention of getting at least some sleep that night, he couldn’t help but think about the stranger at the club. Kevin had pretty minimal self-preservation instincts, but it was clear that he didn’t recognize Neil one bit. Andrew sighed and burrowed further in his pillow. It was clear that the kid was hiding something, and it was inevitably up to Andrew to find out what it was.


	2. Chapter 2

Neil didn't particularly like working at the strip club, but it was a nice change from being on the run with his mom. After the bone-deep anguish he had felt on the beaches of California had been pushed down and contained, he had gathered his bearings enough to hitchhike cross-country towards South Carolina. After packing and re-packing his bag for the fourth time that night, crouched in the sand next to his mother's burial sight, he made a decision. He didn't think about his destination, but he came to terms with the fact that he wanted to be as far away from California as was humanly possible for a teenager without any parents. Flying to another country was out of the question, so Neil was left with the East coast.

He told himself that he was only going to stop in Columbia for the night, that the next morning he would find a truck stop and continue on for another destination. He was meant to keep moving, to keep changing identities like his mother had taught him. But being in Columbia, being so close to Palmetto State where Kevin Day was, was too much of a temptation to keep him motivated to leave. One day led to one week and his presence was undoubtedly being noticed by suspicious neighbors. If he was to stay in Columbia he needed a different residence other than the home of a vacationing elderly couple, and some kind of job.

His prayers were answered when he was stopped on the street by an out of breath stranger. Fighting the instinct to lash out at the sudden contact, Neil clenched his teeth and yanked his arm from the stranger’s grip. The young man stepped back and held his hands up in surrender, then apologized profusely for his actions.

After they had both calmed down, the stranger introduced himself as Roland and handed Neil a business card. It was for Eden’s Twilight, a gay strip club located just down the street. “You could make hundreds in one night with a face like yours.”

Neil held the business card like the thing offended him. Sensing his hesitation, Roland quickly amended, “Unless you're not 18! Oh god, I probably just propositioned a high school kid. Do you still live with your parents?”

Neil shook his head, “I'm 18, and my parents aren't around.” It was the truth, despite the fact that Neil Josten’s driver's license said his birthday wasn't for another couple of months. He didn't know what Roland saw in him, but he needed a job and the idea of extra money to add to his current stash really added incentive.

“You're not out on the streets are you? You have a home, right?”

Neil shrugged. Technically he was living out of somebody’s basement at the moment. Roland sounded distressed at his admission, tutting over ‘the state of today's youth’ and ‘absent parents’. He seemed to make a decision after a couple minutes as he straightened up and held out his hand for Neil to shake. “If you work for Eden’s, you can crash at my place. I have a decent couch and if you chip in for groceries every now and then I'm sure I'll be a decent cook.”

Neil mentally berated himself for not learning more about the job before accepting the terms, but he shook Roland’s hand regardless. He left Roland with the determination to find out more and a business card with directions to his newly acquired housing.

He arrived at Roland’s a day later, armed with his duffle bag and a determined set to his shoulders. He had made up his mind a month ago that he was going to give in and stay in Columbia for a little while. He was going to dig his heels in and set up base, resolved to leave at the first hint of trouble. Roland was harmless, his apartment was liveable, and the job sounded pretty simple once he got the general overview of what it entailed. Despite all this, Neil still had to stifle some panic at the thought of sharing close quarters with a stranger. He went to bed the first night only after he heard Roland's snores through the bedroom door, and even then he couldn't fall asleep until he mapped out every possible escape route in the small apartment. He considered asking his roommate how sturdy the tree was outside the living room window the next morning, but resolved that it would raise too many questions that he wasn't prepared for.

The job at Eden's Twilight was relatively simple, but Neil still faced a large learning curve when it came to flirting, dressing himself, and lap dances. Roland gave him a reprieve from learning how to dance, claiming that “the poor kid barely knows how to dress himself, give him a couple months before he has to charm a room full of strangers.” Neil should've felt insulted, but he was too busy figuring out the basics of even walking seductively. They resolved to teach him in the mornings since the club didn't open till 8:00 at night. His teacher, a retired stripper from the red light district in Amsterdam, was patient with him up until she had to teach him how to strip. He refused to take off his shirt, claiming he had deformities from birth that absolutely no one would find sexy. She clucked her tongue and let it slide after several hours of arguing, but Neil knew he had to find some other workaround for his scars.

His first night on the floor of Eden's went by quickly. Roland lent him some clothes, resolved not to let him out in public unless he had some semblance of style. Regarding the scars on his stomach, Neil found that if he asked the men politely not to touch him, they kept their hands to themselves. He still got the occasional squeeze on his hips or a searching hand lifting his shirt hem, but a quick glance to the club’s bouncers and a subtle clearing of his throat usually got them to stop. Some of the strippers lured their patrons away to the back rooms, where most of the nudity took place. Neil simply didn't offer his customers the service, claiming he was still new and a little too young to go that far. Regardless, he made upwards of $300 his first night just from lap dances. When he told Roland the next morning, his roommate grinned and pointed his cereal spoon at Neil, “Told you so.”

Neil had no idea how it happened, but he was starting to be pretty good at his job. His earnings fluctuated night to night, but the amount of money in his duffle bag nearly doubled (save for what remained of the five million dollars his mother stole). He was starting to get comfortable with the people around him, like Roland and the other workers at Eden’s Twilight. Since Roland worked at the bar he had few chances to approach him with questions, so he had to settle for the strippers and dancers working the floor. A few of them wrote him off as a newbie and dismissed him as a threat, but others were almost too accepting. He kept his distance, careful to steer clear of social gatherings after long nights or group sessions with his teacher from Amsterdam. Roland told them that Neil was just shy, that he was still adjusting to the “glamorous stripper life”. Really he was scared that they were getting too close to him, that he was being too memorable. Neil had a panic attack in Roland’s bathroom one night, overwhelmed with everything that he was giving, that he was revealing. Even if it was the little things, like his last name or that he didn’t like drinking or that he didn’t own a cellphone, they made Neil panic. They were things that people would remember about him, that they would remember about _Neil_. He packed and re-packed his bag twelve times that night, until Roland came home and forced him to go to bed.

His energy at the club dwindled a bit, brought down by his constant anxiety caused by the people around him. He stopped approaching the customers that looked a little too old, too much like his dad or his dad’s henchmen. When Roland approached him during a particular busy night, Neil couldn’t hide the fact that he was hiding from most of the customers in the club.

“I’ve got someone easy for you. A college kid. You can handle that, right?”

Neil nodded and followed Roland’s line of sight to a group sitting by the side of the stage. They seemed young enough, and there were already a couple of workers flirting with one person in particular. Neil gave the bartender a reassuring smile and headed towards the group, applying every technique his teacher had taught him; walk with a purpose, hold your head high, smile with your eyes, and move your hips to the beat of the music.  

Neil went through the motions, batting his eyelashes and giving the excitable young man casual touches throughout their conversation. He tried to keep his attention on ‘Nicky’ as best he could, but he kept getting distracted by his paranoia. Something felt off, and it wasn’t until he started noticing the people in Nicky’s group that he realized what it was. Or rather, who it was.

Kevin Day sat perched in an arm chair to Nicky’s right, sipping at a martini without a care in the world. He was obviously drunk, swaying back and forth to the upbeat music that vibrated throughout the club. He looked exactly as he did in Neil’s magazine cutouts, young and fit with a large number 3 tattooed on his cheek and brand new scars winding around his right hand. Neil stared at him for an indeterminable amount of time, caught between running or sticking it out to appease his curiosity. Would Kevin recognize him? Did he forget about Neil? His questions were answered when Kevin looked straight at him, recognition completely absent from his green eyes, and turned back after a moment to whatever he was previously occupied with. Neil let out a breath of relief, but he was still tense with wariness.

“Do you work out, Neil?” Nicky’s voice came back into focus, drawing his attention away from the Exy star and back to the situation at hand. Nicky seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Neil nodded numbly.

“I’m sorry Nicky, but I have to go,” Neil said, making sure to keep his voice even and far from panic-induced. “Will you be back next week? We can continue talking then.”

Nicky smiled kindly and placed a hand on Neil’s hip. He fought hard not to flinch at the sudden contact, but he could tell that Nicky noticed as he rubbed a circle with his thumb absentmindedly, and then let go. “I’ll see you next week then!”

Neil gave him a small smile and then retreated into the throngs of the crowd, his mind racing a million miles a minute. He knew that Columbia was within an hour of Palmetto, but he didn’t think that he would see Kevin Day at a nondescript gay strip club in the middle of such a large city. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the black number “3” set high on Kevin’s cheekbone, evidence of a life with Riko, of a life playing Exy day in and day out regardless of the happenings of his past.

He found himself in the back dressing room, rifling through his belongings for a pack of cigarettes and his sweatshirt. He needed some air, and the fire escape usually provided a small space of solitude separate from the hectic atmosphere of the strip club. He sighed in relief as the sounds of the club were muffled by the heavy door slamming behind him. The cold air hit his face and cleared his thoughts, and as he lit up a cigarette and took his first and only drag from it, he could almost smell his mother’s burning flesh and hear the crashing of waves on an abandoned oceanfront. He crouched behind the door and pulled his knees to his chest, savoring each plume of smoke as it rose from the burning cherry held close to his face.

His peace was disturbed as he heard the door click open, letting out the sounds of the club as well as a stranger dressed entirely in black. Neil watched as he let the door slam behind him, walking towards the balcony railing and lighting up a cigarette as if he had been out here a million times. Neil didn’t recognize him as one of the staff, and he was short enough that he wasn’t a retiree. “Employees only. Unless the building is on fire.” He said, keeping his voice small but firm.  

The stranger turned around and Neil recognized him instantly. Not only was he part of Nicky’s group, but Andrew Minyard was Palmetto State’s goalkeeper. He was unmatched in most games when he put forth even a little effort, and was rumored to have turned down Kevin Day and Riko Moriyama when offered a spot on the Ravens. He only accepted Coach Wymack’s offer after his brother and cousin’s spots on the team were included in the deal. He was ruthless, heavily medicated, and psychotic. Neil instantly tensed up at the sight of him leaning on the metal banister. He looked more than a little deranged, like the smile that threatened to break his face in half was pulling him apart at the seams. Neil was inherently repulsed by it. He knew danger, and the small blonde _reeked_ of danger.

“Now now, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Andrew’s lilting voice cut through the silence of the night, deadly but slightly amused. “How long have you been working here?”

Neil didn’t want to play his games, but he gave as succinct an answer as he could muster. Andrew wasn’t fazed by his abrasiveness, and only seemed to grow more and more amused as he continued to fire questions at Neil. As the interrogation hedged more and more towards Kevin, Neil tried his best to play the innocent act. What he would have given to be able to run away, to find the nearest truck stop and find himself in another state in a matter of hours. As it was though, Andrew was very real, very dangerous, and blocking every single one of his exit points.

“Tell me Neil, does lying get easier the more you do it or harder?”

Neil sprang to his feet, startled by the use of his name. Granted, it was his temporary name, used by nearly everyone associated with his identity at the time, but he didn’t like the sound of it on Andrew’s tongue. It sounded knowing, as if he could pick apart Neil’s brain with the amusement of a deranged scientist. Neil hesitated in moving any further, since his only escape was to push Andrew to the side in order to gain access to either the club door or the staircase. Andrew took advantage of his lapse of action and stepped forward, crowding him against the railing at his back. The smoke from both of their cigarettes mingled above their heads, filling the night air with the smell of burnt ash.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Andrew.” He hissed. _Two can play at this game._

Andrew laughed, but it sounded like it hurt coming out. It was creepy sounding, digging into Neil’s personal space one cackle at a time. “Oh, now we’re playing the right game!” Andrew exclaimed, blowing a puff of smoke into Neil’s face as he did so, “So you pay attention to Exy, big deal. You never answered my question.”

Neil put on his best innocent expression and threw his cigarette off the balcony. The smoke was getting to be too much all at once, and was no longer comforting in the slightest. “You weren’t asking the right question. Kevin is a world renowned Exy star, who wouldn’t get nervous seeing him in a male strip club?”

Andrew hummed happily, “Nice try, Pinocchio. I know a scared rabbit when I see one.” Neil sighed in relief as the blonde backed away, one step at a time as if any sudden movement would set Neil off. Roland chose then to come looking for Neil, opening the door to the fire escape and interrupting their tense face-off. Neil thanked the gods that Roland had come looking for him, but he didn’t appreciate the little jab at his homelessness. He sidestepped away from Andrew and entered the club at Roland’s bidding, elbowing him lightly in the stomach as he passed by.

As soon as they were all in the club, Andrew wandered off. Neil watched him leave while Roland tutted at him for abandoning his work for so long to talk to boys. Andrew was more dangerous than Neil had initially thought. He was smart, and all too eager to get the answers he wanted. Neil saw him as a threat, but was he a big enough threat to send him running? Kevin didn’t recognize him, and he could possibly keep playing the innocence card to get Andrew off his tail. He could play dumb for as long as it took, but would that satisfy Andrew’s curiosity?

Andrew was unpredictable, and Neil didn’t know how long he could play this charade with him and still come away unscathed. Maybe this would be the push he needed to leave Columbia, to leave the idea of Kevin Day, Exy, and the prospect of a normal life behind him as he faced the reality of Nathaniel Wesninski once again. Neil looked over at Roland, still ranting about work ethic and the value of the job over the loud music of the club, and considered his options. He was comfortable at Roland’s apartment, he got three square meals a day, and his money was growing exponentially every night. He had escape routes planned for every establishment he had ever frequented, and contacts that could erase any mention of Neil Josten from every record. He liked the stability of staying in one place, and although he hated the panic that arose from people actually knowing him, he knew that it was a comfort that he would never experience again if he let himself run.  
  
Neil sighed. Maybe Andrew won’t become as big of a problem as he was making him out to be. Maybe Kevin will never recognize him. Or maybe his father will find him before either of them have the chance. Either way, Neil was tired of running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidenote: there will be sexy times?? Neil will be sexy I guarantee it... i know what you came here for my friends

**Author's Note:**

> No idea how long this is going to be but i DO have the entire thing outlined, so it should go much faster than my other fics (*cough*NMS*cough*)
> 
> Title taken from Jimin's [Lie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AbvTsN2P4SY)


End file.
